


Found: One Lost Richie Tozier

by sloppytozier



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, hngndn it’s Gay Shit, uh yeah!, uhh like a lot of homophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-27 20:22:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20766410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sloppytozier/pseuds/sloppytozier
Summary: a character study of Richie Tozier throughout his teen years.





	Found: One Lost Richie Tozier

“Hey, watch it, trashmouth!” 

It was only the first day, and already, he was being called names. Thankfully, it wasn’t anything like, say, fairy, or god forbid, faggot, but still. Name calling was name calling, but he was used to it by now. 

Unfortunately, this year their group was one short. Beverly had moved to Portland, to live with her aunt, and truth be told, Richie missed her a lot more than he thought he would. He wasn’t in love with her the way Bill and Ben were, and Stan, Eddie, and Mike always seemed to get quiet around her. He just liked her for the way she was- strong, independent, and yet still kind and funny. She wasn’t like the new breed of ninth grade girls who hung off their boyfriends, before breaking up a week later.

“Richie! There you are. D-did you see anyone else yet?” Bill emerged from the sea of students, a nervous smile on his face as he looked at Richies schedule. “Hey! We h-have pre-algebra a-and phys ed together!” Bill interrupted, barely giving Richie time to collect his thoughts. 

“Well, I saw Stan and Ben earlier, but I was in the middle of getting the fuck out of some big shot mullet assholes way. And I didn’t see Eddie, even though I was with his mom this morning.” 

Bill rolled his eyes. “N-not funny. Who’s the big sh-shot mullet guy? I thought he was sent into s-some mental ward.”

Richie shrugged. “It’s the power vacuum, I guess. One loses his fucking marbles, the other comes in. It’s a vicious cycle, Billiam. Anyway, catch ya later, I’ve got to go see which hot ladies are in my home room this semester.” And with that, he waved goodbye to Bill, half jogging to get to class. 

It wasn’t that Richie didn’t like Bill. In fact, he admired Bill. He was dedicated and a good leader, plus a good friend. But it was something about being around the remaining losers that made Richie uneasy, especially Eddie. 

Oh, Eddie Kaspbrak. Richie didn’t know what the fuck happened between them, but they seemed much closer since the whole demonic clown event of ‘89. But every time they hung out, Richie felt weirdly possessed to sit as close as possible, to touch him, and on a few occasions, to kiss him. 

Richie knew it was wrong. He knew it was queer, and he knew that his workaholic, reaganite father, who he barely saw, and let alone spoke to, would not be pleased. But until then, his solution was to annoy Eddie, in the hopes to see him smile tiredly, or go on a rant, or do some stupid shit that Richie found so, so, so endearing.

Richie sat down dejectedly, realizing he had no friends in his homeroom, one of the few classes where it was expected to have friends. But as Richie looked around, he saw people he didn’t know or care for.  
Though, maybe, this was a good thing. He would be starting high school off right, no Henry Bowers, no It, just him and his losers.

“Alright class,” the teacher, a tall, middle aged man spoke at the front of the class room. He was dressed awfully nice, and Richie realized this man must be the new principal, Dr. Wilson. 

“You all are starting high school this year, and I’d just like to congratulate you all on making it to the home stretch. Soon, before you know it, you’ll be leaving home, and this little town called Derry. I would just ask you to please treat each other with respect, and most importantly, listen to yourself, and what you want, in life, and in your high school experience. Find your voice, and don’t let anyone silence it.”

The man glanced at his watch. “Alright, the bells about to ring, so I should let you guys get to your first class of ninth grade. Good luck out there, and make Derry proud!” As soon as Dr. Wilson finished, the bell rang, and everyone rushed out of their seats, eager to get started on their high school careers. 

\+ 

Riding his bike back home, Richie had the time to ponder what Wilson has said. And what he had said, Richie concluded, was bullshit. All of it.

Be yourself? Find your voice? What the fuck kind of hippie shit was that? Richie was one hundred and ten percent sure that if he found his (extremely homosexual) voice, he would be found dead in the quarry. Clearly, Wilson had never, not once, had wanted something both morally wrong, and something so out of reach. 

“Hey, Richie! Slow down!” A familiar voice interrupted his thoughts, which were starting to become an endless pit, from which there was no escape. He turned around, both happily surprised and horrified that Eddie had followed him, almost all the way home.

“Well, whaddaya know, it’s Eddie Spaghetti,” Richie greeted, stopping his bike and turning to look at him. God, he was cute. So prim and proper and delicate, but at the same time, harsh and unyielding.

Eddie glared playfully at Richie. “Dude, shut up. I thought we were all going to the clubhouse after school? That’s what Stan and Bill said, remember?”

Richie sighed inwardly. He loved the losers, he really did, but he needed to be alone, and figure himself out, and whatnot. Hard to believe, but this new Richie was focused on repressing his feelings, and bringing them out only when he was alone. “Can’t, Eds. I got slammed with homework.”

“That’s bullshit. I know for a fact that the only classes you had today were phys ed and history,” Eddie scoffed. He then softened, realizing that for once in his short life, Richie wasn’t joking. “Come on, what’s wrong?” 

Richie turned away. “It doesn’t matter. I just. I have to figure some stuff out, yknow?” He began to pedal slowly, not looking to see whether Eddie was going to follow him. Deep, deep down, in a dark corner of his heart, he wanted Eddie to follow him, to hold him in his arms and ask him what was wrong. 

“Rich, stop this shit right now,” Eddie dropped his bike and put his hands on Richies, glaring at him. “Come on, let’s go to the clubhouse. No one is there, I promise.” 

Reluctantly, Richie nodded, although he remained silent the whole way there, but as soon as the pair arrived, he sighed, sitting down on the hammock, staring at his knobby knees. 

Eddie sat next to him, glancing at him, before speaking up. “What’s wrong Richie? Ever since we killed It, you’ve been different. Gotta say, I miss the annoying Richie, for once in my life.”

Richie snorted. “It’s some post traumatic shit, I guess. Yknow, Vietnam flashbacks or whatever the fuck.”

Eddie scowled for a moment. “Beep beep, Richie. But seriously, what’s wrong? You’re the only one who’s changed.”

Richie sighed, looking at Eddie. “Ever feel... different? From everyone else? And you’re basically the last person to know you’re different from everyone else?” 

Eddie laughed. “Dude, I’ve been taught to think I’m about to drop dead from some immunodeficiency, even if I’m healthy. I get you.”

Richie shrugged. What would Eddie say if he told him? Would he stare, call him dirty, and yell hysterically? Or would he be fine, maybe offer him a hug? Finally collecting some sort of courage, Richie spoke up. 

“Derry... it’s like a box. Even though Bowers is gone, I’m still afraid that someone’s gonna come and corner me, or call me names, or some other shit. And it’s not fair, I guess, but it’s my fault for being this way? I mean, that’s what everyone seems to think and say.”

Eddie nodded. “But like, what are you saying?” The shorter boy had a slight inkling, but he wanted some kind of confirmation, proof that his suspicions were right. 

Richie sighed. “Remember how Bowers called me a faggot at the arcade? Well, turns out he was right. That’s it. I’m a homo, so there ya go. A homo, and a loser.” 

Eddie nodded, scooting closer to Richie. “Well, no matter what, you’ll always be a loser, and you’ll always have a place with us here.”

“You mean it?”

“Yeah, I do, asshole.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!! Thanks to whoever is reading this, and if you like it, feel free to leave kudos and comments. :’)
> 
> tumblr- gentlemanfreddie


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